Word: runge
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...mighty unworthy parent who is unable to offset Phariseeism at home) if I could make sure of securing for my children the influence of teachers to whom their job is not just a pay envelope and a step higher on the ladder of respectability than the rung to which they were accustomed. But we, like so many others, simply haven't the money . . . even if we had the inclination to send our little ones away from home to be educated by teachers of our own choosing. How fortunate for all concerned if our State Board of Education would accept...
...decide that Derwent's alibi is too perfect; ergo, he is the guilty man. After a great deal of twiddle-twaddle about the part played in the crime by time Derwent clears himself, and, the plot being almost tragically clear to the spectators by now, the curtain is rung down...
...directors of our destiny-our fathers of Government and our Father in Heaven. From this security we may know that as the Sentinel of passing days, aye of passing days, passing his rounds upon the watch tower of civilization, conning the ominous signs of the times, shall hear rung out the challenge: 'Watchman. what of the night?' Angels grant that, true to the lessons of Washington, Jefferson and Lincoln, our friendship with all nations and alliances with none, we may respond 'Thank God, all is well...
...Democratic politics. Nobody is fooled by the independent location of the Board of Education's dingy old headquarters on Park Avenue at 59th Street some three miles north of City Hall. Brought to New York at the age of four, Harold George Campbell climbed the public school ladder rung by rung: pupil, grade-school teacher, high-school teacher, principal, associate superintendent. He has long been a close personal friend and ally of the Board of Education's Democratic President George Joseph Ryan. Democratic Superintendent O'Shea has often been pleased to call him "my right arm." Accepting...
...somehow get himself into the white-collar class. He is almost there when the War swallows him. Vomited out after the armistice as an unemployed veteran, complete with scars and medals, he starves, emigrates to Sweden, goes home to more starvation. Down the long scale of disintegration he slips rung by rung. Three newspaper clippings end the book: one from Rochester. Minn, announcing the dollar-valuation of a human body's chemicals; one from Capetown, telling of a holocaust of storks killed in a freak hailstorm; one from Vienna, a sympathetic epitaph on Karl's suicide...